My buddy had an obsession with playing matchmaker.
To announce his love for the richest woman in the country to the whole world, he'd paired up everything in the house—toothbrushes, slippers, you name it. Even I became a prop in his little matching game.
"It's a perfect match! My assistant and my girlfriend's right-hand woman—meant to be!"
In my previous life, that absurd setup forced Sarah Delgado into marrying me.
For three years after the wedding, she treated me like a king. Doted on me. Made me believe I'd actually found love.
Until I was on my deathbed, begging her to come to the hospital and sign the consent form for my surgery.
On the other end of the line, she laughed. A cold, contemptuous laugh.
"He thinks he's worth my signature?"
My blood ran cold as she tore apart three years of what I thought we had, word by word:
"Weren't you the one who was so eager to go along with your buddy's little matchmaking game? Simon and I are the real match made in heaven! As for someone like you—you belong in bed with a ten-dollar hooker."
On our wedding night, the woman in my bed had been a ten-dollar hooker.
Three years of fake affection, all an elaborate trap—just to destroy me and avenge Simon Simmons.
I closed my eyes on that operating table, full of despair and hatred.
When I opened them again, it was the exact day my buddy had insisted on setting us up.
……
Morgan Fox was beside me, running his mouth nonstop.
"Roland Kaufman, what do you think about Regina's assistant, Sarah Delgado?"
"She's Regina's most trusted confidante, and gorgeous too. A knockout like her with a handsome devil like you—it's a match made in heaven!"
I stared at the scene in front of me. A sharp, searing pain reminded me that I was truly alive again.
In my last life, Morgan had been so desperate to show off his relationship with Regina Henson that he'd dragged us into this ridiculous "power couple" pairing.
Out of respect for years of friendship, I'd half-heartedly agreed to give Sarah a chance.
Sarah was a master of disguise.
She'd put on this refined, elegant act, taking care of every little detail of my life. Three years of marriage, catering to my every whim, making me believe I was a happy man.
It wasn't until that brutal surgery that I heard what she really thought of me.
That I finally understood who had actually been in my bed on our wedding night.
Nausea surged through me. I shoved away the photo Morgan was holding out.
"Not interested."
Morgan froze.
"Roland, you usually go along with me on stuff like this. Sarah's really great, I'm telling you."
I looked him dead in the eye.
"You love pairing things up so much, go to a pet store and buy two dogs to breed."
"I refuse to be a prop you use to broadcast your love story to the world."
Morgan's face turned beet red. Beside him, Regina Henson's brow furrowed.
"Roland, Morgan means well."
I grabbed my bag and headed for the door.
"I can't afford that kind of goodwill."
I pushed open the door of the private VIP room and nearly collided with a woman.
That scent. Sarah Delgado's scent.
In my last life, it was those exact eyes that had deceived me for three full years.
"Mr. Kaufman, leaving so soon?"
Her voice was low, honeyed. My body moved on its own, stepping back to put distance between us.
"Move."
Sarah raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting this kind of hostility.
She stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"Mr. Kaufman seems to have quite the grudge against me."
"Have we met before?"
I lifted my chin.
"No. But I don't like the look of you."
Sarah let out a soft laugh.
"Mr. Kaufman speaks his mind."
"But Ms. Henson and Mr. Fox arranged this out of kindness. Refusing them outright like that—isn't that a bit disrespectful?"
I curled my lip.
"My dignity isn't theirs to trample."
I stepped around her and walked out without looking back.
Behind me, Sarah Delgado's gaze followed my every step.
